Macnair’s small start stretched a broad grin across Basil’s face, so self-satisfied he almost looked smug. (Almost.) Basil half expected the former Slytherin to bite him or react more strongly, a thought that didn’t cross his mind with as much alarm as it likely should have. When Macnair didn’t, Basil lowered his hand and huffed a little laugh, light and almost tinkly like his baby cousin’s. (There wasn’t much Basil had in common with Poppy but their amused laugh, for how rare Basil bothered to share his, had the same distinctly honest, silver bell hint to it.) Macnair’s responding smile to his quip was well worth it though. Basil hated how even still, all these years later, that fleeting look could make his brain catch as if stalled. He knew better now… unfortunately, what that meant, and distinctly shoved the thought aside. He had more than enough to contend with these days. There was no reason whatever to add poor Agrimony into the mix. Grey hues traced the whirl of smoke that the other breathed even still, and Basil had to force himself to look away.
Startled, almost, at the sudden question- Basil responded in the affirmative before he could think twice. (Because surely if he had, he would have realized he was not, in fact, hungry and had much to do this afternoon in the castle.) As it was, he gave a half-hearted little shrug instead and said “I could use a break,” as if breaks were something he did. “Have anything specific in mind?”